


Awkward

by Janice_Lester



Category: Supernatural RPF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-31
Updated: 2014-05-31
Packaged: 2018-01-27 16:43:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1717535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Janice_Lester/pseuds/Janice_Lester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The writers want them to do WHAT?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Awkward

**Author's Note:**

> Contains forced kiss in the fictional SPN ep the characters are filming. Beta'd by the indispensable [](http://vee-dub.livejournal.com/profile)[vee_dub](http://vee-dub.livejournal.com/). Spoilers through SPN season 7.

“Enchanted… mistletoe…” Jensen repeats dubiously.

He can _hear_ in the crackly speakerphone pause that follows that the writers are all trying to avoid being the one to explain. He pictures a furious round of silent rock-scissors-paper.

“That’s right,” comes the new girl’s voice. Jensen guesses she got nominated _because_ she’s the new girl, and not because she actually had anything to do with dreaming up this shit. “And that’s why Sam and Dean are going to—it’s completely not their fault, you see. It's the mistletoe. It’s enchanted. They don’t have a choice. The audience will be completely able to write it off as just, just an unfortunate magical event and not, you know, anything, uh, sinister. Not that, not that magical compulsion to kiss people isn’t sinister, but you know what I mean.” A pause. “You do know what I mean?” she adds hopefully.

This wouldn’t, Jensen thinks, rubbing at his forehead in a likely futile effort to dispel the headache building there, be half so annoying if Jared wasn’t sitting right beside him like a completely unconcerned lump of concrete, holding gummy worms captive between his giant white teeth and stretching them until they break.

“You’re making us kiss on camera, and you’re reassuring me that no one will think our characters are secret incestuous gay lovers, and this is somehow supposed to make me feel that the whole idea is less innately stupid. So, what, we’re playing this for laughs?”

“Well,” the new girl says, “if Sera Gamble gave me one piece of advice on her way out the door, it was to do my best to approximate the sense of humour and the taste level of the average twelve-year-old boy.”

“Just. Doing. Your. Job,” Jensen translates helpfully.

“I’m so glad you understand where we’re going with this,” someone—Ben, Jensen thinks—puts in. “What we’re trying to do here. It’s going to be epic. Now, if that’s all today’s business, we’d better go sharpen our pencils and let you two awesome stars go back to setting the camera on fire. Or, you know, whatever.”

Jensen sighs.

Jared completes the process of carefully plaiting together three differently-coloured gummy worms and begins to suck noisily on their heads.

Fuck it. He needs a drink.

***

The script, when it comes is… actually not all that bad. Well, it could be worse. It’s not as bad as that shit where Sam got roofie-married. But it’s…

Well, you never know what’ll end up on the cutting room floor, right?

He can hope.

***

Misha has _that look_ in his eye. And, in case that’s too subtle, he’s bouncing up and down on his toes. And just in case someone managed to miss even _that_ , there’s the part where next he jumps onto the lap of one Jensen Ackles, who is innocently minding his own business, reviewing his lines for this week’s vampire-assassin episode while he waits for that charming new PA to bring him his damn sandwich already.

“Hello Jensen!” Misha cries, far too loudly given that his mouth is virtually in Jensen’s ear canal.

“Misha,” he replies quietly. “Hi. Something I can do for you?”

“Admire my supreme, beneficent genius. For I have achieved the improbable, yet again! Oh, guess, guess. Okay, you’ll never guess. But you’ll be so proud.” He leans back a little, frowns. “Actually, no, you must guess. I can’t tell you if you won’t at least guess.”

Jensen manfully resists the urge to roll his eyes. Well, if it counts as manfully resisting if he’s actually put off by a sudden chilling memory of his mother scolding him for doing it. A guess. Okay. He can do that. No one said it has to be a _good_ guess, right? “You and Vicki have bought a hundred acres of grassland and you’re opening a wildlife sanctuary to rehabilitate rescued circus elephants.”

Misha beams at him. “No,” he says. “But great guess! That would be _wonderful_! Would a hundred acres be enough, though?” He ponders this for several moments without apparently needing further input.

The guy’s getting kinda heavy here, but Jensen focuses on trying to extract his script, the edge of which is caught between his thigh and Misha’s hip. Perhaps he can go over that scene with the tricky _Star Trek_ jargon again while Misha’s lost in thought…

“So, guess,” Misha says, prodding his chest. “Oh, wait, you already did that. So I’ll tell you.” He takes a deep breath, makes a big show of being about to drop a bombshell. “They accepted my script revisions! I may even get actual co-writer credit, though I didn’t do all _that_ much. But what I did do is one hundred percent pure gold, you understand. And you’ll be so pleased with me.” He smiles tremulously, clearly waiting for praise.

“Uh, hate to break it to you, Mish, but this is the first I’m hearing about this. You submitted a script?”

“No, dumbass. I fixed the kiss thing in the mistletoe ep we’re filming next block.”

Jensen blinks. “You did? You got me out of that kiss?”

Misha smiles. “I have saved the world from the discomfort of seeing Dean stand on tippytoes to slobber all over Sam.”

“You did?” he replies weakly. That is _quite_ the relief. He doesn’t mind the thought of kissing Padalecki, and he’s not pathetic enough to think his career won’t survive him kissing another man on screen, it’s just that he can really, really do without certain family members—and possibly media besides—insinuating that he’s put any kind of pro-incest message out into the world. Seriously, his Mom is ropeable on the subject of Woody Allen and what’s her name. “How’d you manage that?”

“Oh, that’s easy. I pointed out how much funnier it would be if Dean kissed Castiel, who got all confused and claimed not to understand the cultural significance of mistletoe and so on. Trust me, this will _rock_.”

Jensen has the distinct impression he should be attempting gratitude for small mercies right about now.

“So,” Misha says, “you wanna practice for our big scene?” He bats his eyelashes seductively.

Jensen half-heartedly attempts to shove him off his lap, and Misha cackles so uproariously that Jared comes running, fight make-up half-done and with a pissed-off Harry the Hair Guy in pursuit, to make sure he isn’t missing out on a prank of some kind.

***

There are indeed new, colourful script pages for the mistletoe ep when Jensen returns to his trailer that evening. But reading them is definitely going to have to wait until he has acquired more fortitude from somewhere. Possibly his liquor cabinet.

***

“Dean! _Move_ , you’re under the mistletoe!”

Jensen gives his best Skeptical Dean Face. “So just don’t come join me, okay? Just let me do this and then we’ll get the hell out, all kiss-free and unmolested.” He takes a step forward, hits his mark, freezes.

“Got it,” someone calls from behind the camera. “Nobody move, Misha’s coming in.”

There’s a rustle of voluminous coat, and then Misha is standing beside him, still, waiting.

Someone counts them in.

“Hello, Dean,” Misha says.

Jensen does Horrified Dean Face for just a second before leaning in and planting one on Misha.

Jared makes a very Sam-appropriate choking noise.

Misha tries to slip in some tongue, and Jensen has to fight to keep it together. Eventually it seems like enough time has passed, and he escapes the warm press of Misha’s lips to pull away, step back out of enchanted-plant range, and stare.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” says Jared.

“Dean?” Misha says, sounding painfully confused.

Jensen points upwards. “Enchanted,” he says shortly.

“Oh,” Misha says. “Why?”

“Because witches are sadistic bitches?”

Misha, damn him, actually manages to look _hurt_. This is not at all how Jensen read the script.

“It’s someone’s idea of a joke, Cas.” Jared delivers the line with a surprising degree of sympathy, given the recent animosity between Sam and Castiel. “Because of the whole Christmas mistletoe kiss tradition, you know.”

Misha gives one of his trademark blink-and-you’ll-miss-it changes of expression.

Jensen makes his Exasperated Dean noise. Waves his hands about a bit. “People hang mistletoe under doorways and off light fixtures during the holidays. When two people happen to find themselves standing under mistletoe together, they’re supposed to kiss. And here—” he waves upwards at the high, empty set ceiling that will be re-dressed when they get around to shooting the upward angles for this scene “—we have mistletoe that’s been enchanted so that people _have_ to do the kiss thing. So, uh, watch where you’re going, okay?”

“Yes, Dean. I would not wish to make you uncomfortable.”

And it’s right there in his expression, you can _see_ that Misha totally wrote that line and thinks it’s the most awesome thing ever. Jensen rolls his eyes and leads the way across the set and deeper into the house that isn’t actually a house.

“And cut! Going again shortly, waiting on sound.”

 _I’m gonna get you for this, Mish,_ Jensen thinks. In lieu of saying so, he drops one arm across Misha’s shoulders and the other around Jared’s waist as they wait to be told that whatever technical problem cropped up has been resolved. “So,” he says casually, “guess who’s gonna be getting Chapstick for his birthday?”

***END***


End file.
